


Dancing in Flames

by Milu_i



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Universe, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, M/M, One Shot Collection, includes:, pre Klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milu_i/pseuds/Milu_i
Summary: No 42: 'I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you.'“What is Lance doing down there?”“His suit has the ability to create a virtual mindscape, reflecting its wearer’s greatest hopes and fears.""A hologram.”“And, at this moment, your friend desperately wants to see him.”“Keith, you have to calm down first, come on, just – look at me, babe.”One-Shot Collection to 50 Prompts:http://milucarie.tumblr.com/post/155545090706/voltron-prompts





	1. [№ 45] 'I think I made a mistake.'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alien artifact is able to show Keith images of his past and when he begins to lose himself to the hidden memories, Lance tries to save him from himself and discovers a side of his fellow Paladin that slowly begins to grow on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Music tip:  
>  Moby ft. Damien Jurado – Almost Home (Sebastien Radio Edit)**  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oeGNqv8rVOY
> 
>  _Characters:_ Lance, Keith  
>  _Pairing:_ pre Klance  
>  _Universe:_ Canon, during/near end of Season 1

 

Distant.  
It’s the first thing that comes to Lance’s mind, when one of the aliens asks him about the quiet Paladin. Their curious nature competes even with Pidge’s, and while she is having the time of her life with the new race they found on a mostly abandoned planet far off from where the Galra empire extends their power every second of every day, Lance is slightly… overwhelmed.  
Especially when they want to know _everything_ about them. At first it is endearing, boosting his ego like mad (no thanks to his so-called friends laughing about it), but after the third day he craves for some silence and peace. He would have said so out loud, if it hadn’t reminded him of a certain Paladin, who has managed to bug off on the first day with his for once useful withdrawn behavior.

So their host’s daughter (at least its voice is too high compared to the deep rumbling sound the others make and they use similar pronouns) comes to him shortly after dinner to ask about Keith. The same Keith who has managed to slip off as soon as they finished eating and is no where in sight. No way he’ll have to stand hearing about them praising him for hours again. Not happening.  
And so with the most sickeningly-sweet smile he promises her to drag his sorry ass back here, until Keith’s ears fall off. Of course in a bit more appropriate language and even if it’s the last thing he’ll do (because Lance has seen that guy exercise).

At first he looks around the residence, before he makes his way over to their lions, but the guy is no where in sight. Not even on the cliff overlooking the colorful valley at the edge of the village, where he has seen Keith on in the middle of a restless night. Where has that guy gone off to? He surely didn’t get himself into some trouble, right? But then again it’s _Keith_ , if Lance is able to fall for some alien girl that likes to play with his feelings, Keith can’t be above that as well!

With a deep sigh he makes his way back towards the residence, while the moon of the planet disappears below the horizon and bathes the surface into eerie darkness. Of course he wouldn’t fall for some cheap trick like that, it’s Keith for God’s sake and he has an intuition that nearly beats Shiro’s. Not that he’ll ever tell him that.  
A cold wind blows between the houses and makes him shiver despite the armor he is still wearing, as a figure disappears between two houses to his right. The red shimmer and dark mullet can impossibly be from someone else, not even in the endless vast of space. The smirk fits itself easily onto his face, as he begins to follow his fellow Paladin out of town. Probably the cliff then, Lance figures, until Keith unexpectedly turns left instead of right and then abruptly stops to look at his surroundings. Barely in time Lance ducks behind a tree and only waits for the inevitable shouting to reach his ears –

But it never comes.  
Instead Keith hurries on without noticing him. It’s slightly worrying, but Lance shoves the thought aside to follow him. The smirk is traded for a curious and then thoughtful expression, as they come to a stop in front of the cave entrance they have been showed to on their second day. It’s some religious place for the citizens, apparently it holds a mysterious artifact to protect them from all sorts of evil.  
After months upon months spent in space with the most unlikely events happening all around the time, Lance isn’t above thinking that the well-protected peace and their sheltered existence might have something to do with the so-called artifact. More importantly since their arrival there hasn’t been any Galra activity around them and that alone is reason enough for Lance to perk up at least a little bit.

Crouched behind a rock he musters Keith’s unmoving form.  
His face is hidden by his hair, in the distance a few lights illuminate the town and a faint glow from the cave makes Keith’s form shine unnaturally. Without another glance around he suddenly steps forward, until he has disappeared from Lance’s view.  
What the hell?

A frown appears on his face, while he follows him silently. They have been forbidden to step into the cave, despite the worship and trust the aliens bathe them with. Even though Lance isn’t above making exceptions here and there, Keith is the last person he expected to sneak in here just like that for an artifact that probably is useless to him.

The path is wide enough and not at all how he has imagined it to be. Instead of rough edges and stones littering the way with water dripping from the ceiling, the path is made out of a glowing white stone, not blinding but comforting. When he carefully brushes his hand over the cavern wall to his right in plain curiosity (it’s gonna get him killed one day, Shiro muses every now and then, but he simply can’t help himself), the surface is as soft as it can be regarding it’s stone.  
Up front several paths split into a larger cavern, a circular room with the soft glow that had enwrapped Keith like a cloak before. It’s of a bluish color, very light, nearly a turquoise he reckons, as he follows a path to his left that circles all around it in a crouched position. When low voices reach his ears, he stops and peaks through one of the holes.

_‘Again you are here, young Paladin.’_

“Again you don’t tell me to go,” Keith answers unusually soft and Lance has to move a few meters left to the next larger hole, until he can make out the red Paladin’s form kneeling in front of the glowing glass-like form. It spirals up, a massive crystal that meets the ceiling and has wrapped it into a shimmering layer of little gems. They are of the same blue-greenish color, which captures him for a few seconds and fills him with a feeling he can’t quite make out.  
When the fleeting moment is over he feels empty. It’s weird, but Lance doesn’t give it another thought when Keith finally speaks up again.

“I want to know,” he whispers and stares at the ground in front of him.  
A shiver runs down his spine and momentarily it feels as if Lance has been paralyzed. Something isn’t right. Nothing in here is. The light seems to be alive, calls for him in the back of his mind, while Keith is unwinding to show something Lance never once thought about before; at least not consciously.  
They are teammates, even Keith and him, but not once before have they really acted like it outside the life-or-death situations. Below the rivalry and the snarky comments they throw at each other Lance knows there is more to him. The soft sighs, when he thinks himself alone, lost in the overwhelming view of space right there for them to touch; the lost look in his eyes, whenever they talk about earth; the way he lights up from the inside out, whenever Shiro and him go on a mission alone.  
It isn’t for him to pry, let alone that he can’t imagine Keith being very cooperative, but it shows from time to time. Like now, when he sounds so different from the distant and hard-headed guy he got to admire at the Garrison for his sheer endless talent.

“About my family.”

Oh shit.  
He wants to turn around and leave asap. This is none of his business, even if Keith is kind of breaking an alien law here and talking to a crystal, even if Lance is bugged by the whole situation and his teammate’s eerie behavior (he is _not_ worried, thank you very much).  
Even if he really, really wants to know himself.  
Because Keith _never_ talks about his family. The three times they got to talk about it he first got unusually quiet (more than they are used to) and then left the room under some pretense. Sometimes he and Hunk made up some theories in the middle of the night with voices that were barely above a whisper. Was he an orphan? Did he have a huge fight with his family? Why the heck did he live in a desert of all places to begin with? Were there no distant relatives to go to?

Before Lance is able to force his frozen legs to move, the other voice echoes around the cave once more. It sounds above all else inhuman and metallic, but still manages to ring in his ears like a long-forgotten chime that reminds him of home. For a brief moment he wonders whether or not it sounds the same for Keith.

_‘I do not possess that kind of knowledge.’_

Keith’s shoulders sag, his face is still hidden by the dark streaks of his hair and faced towards the ground. It physically hurts to look at him, for another moment Lance is tempted to turn around and never think of the situation ever again. Then Keith seems to catch himself though and finally looks up at the other being with some of the resolve Lance is used to seeing from him. It takes some of the pressure off of his heart he wasn’t even aware of up until now, while he continues to muster his teammate with an unknown fascination.

“But you know _something_. Please!”

It is silent for a long moment, not once does Keith break his stance, then…  
_‘I can show you.’_

The light intensifies, blinded Lance hides behind the thick stone wall for a second, before the bright glow dims down. When he looks through the hole again, Keith’s hand rests on the crystal and he has a far away look in his eyes.  
It only lasts for mere moments, then he gasps for air and blinks away the tears.

Lance decides to leave as quietly and as quickly as possible.  
When he reaches the entrance of the cave again, shaken and emotionally exhausted by a sight burned into his mind, he is finally able to take a deep, shuddering breath.  
It’s none of his fucking business.

 

* * *

 

But somehow it seems to be.  
Over the next couple of days – they decided to stay put until they have collected enough resources to keep them going for a while without raiding the villagers’ stock – Keith keeps disappearing after meals and random get-togethers. The others notice, but it is Keith, that’s how he usually is, so they don’t bother to question him.  
Although it really _isn’t_ Keith, not the hot-headed, distant and most of all self-aware drop-out from the Garrison. It’s a guy who silently cried over the images of his past all by himself and who goes back day after day after day. For two days he manages to ignore it, then Lance can’t bear it anymore and when he lies awake in the middle of the night on the too hard bed, he decides to have another look.  
Maybe Keith isn’t there for once, maybe Lance can have a quick talk with the crystal person to find out what’s up with his teammate. Because he can deny it as much as he wants to, but he is slowly starting to worry.  
Not that he’ll ever say it out loud to the mullet head.

The way back to the cave takes longer than anticipated and the biting cold goes through the thin layer of clothes he has quickly thrown on, but as he takes the same route back to the place he has held out on, the harsh weather is the least of his problems.  
Keith is back again.

This time the need to go over there and pull him away from the crystal is nearly too strong to resist, so he doesn’t hold back the deep sigh escaping his throat. Keith is lying on the ground on his side faced towards the crystal and for a moment Lance thinks he has fallen asleep. Then he manages to take a glance at his eyes and the far away look in his blue-grey orbs is like a punch in the face.  
Keith is never lost in thoughts. Not once did Lance manage to catch him off-guard nor see this look in his eyes, lost and unaware. His fingertips are touching the bottom of the crystal and this time he is dressed in a rather simple attire compared to his gleaming armor or the trademark black shirt with the red vest.  
Instead he wears something the aliens gifted them with, a long white robe over a plain pair of pants accentuated with light blue streaks, that seem to flow into the other color seamlessly. His dark bangs are tied back into a simple ponytail. It’s so different from his usual cool-guy style, that Lance takes his time to throw another glance over the slim form of his fellow Paladin. If he wouldn’t be drifting in a state of denial and bone-deep embarrassment, he may have admitted to himself that the foreign look is quite appealing to his hungry stare and the fluttering heart in his chest.

Bullshit.  
He feels protective of his teammate, because obviously something is really, really wrong with him. They may not always get along, but they are still almost-friends. Nothing else.  
Nothing else to worry about except for this situation, which slowly begins to be too much for him.

And exactly _that_ is going to stop now, Lance decides and gets up from his crouched position behind the hole. Through a larger one he climbs into the inner cavern with stiff legs to get to Keith and make an end to this slowly unfolding tragedy – until he sees the steady rising and falling of said Paladin’s chest. He has fallen asleep.

_‘What do you desire, child?’_

A sudden yelp escapes his mouth and with a pounding heart he stumbles a few steps backwards. It is the same voice from before, but instead of the familiar echo in the cave, he can hear it inside of his own mind now.  
He is determined to turn around and leave this place asap, but his feet are rooted to the cold ground. The light intensifies, the blinding white turns to a soft blue that dances around the cavern walls and pulls him further and further away from his resolve. It can’t be that hurtful, can it?  
Keith, who obviously has some troubling past regarding his family, finally seems to get some answers. How and in which form doesn’t matter – the eagerness, the unfamiliar gleam in his eyes, the lines disappearing from his face –  
It can’t be that bad, can it?

But underneath the soft calling and the tender touch of whatever is trying to reach his soul, Lance feels the urge to take another look grow stronger.  
He has been crying again. Silently, all by himself and caught in whatever memory the crystal has shown him, Keith has been lying on the cold ground for hours during the last days and cried. The fact alone is weird enough to blow the spell away, while Lance takes a deep breath.

“Nothing you can give me,” he silently replies, before he turns around to leave.  
Another nagging thought makes him stop and with a short glance to the sleeping boy he returns to his side to spread his thick coat over him like a protective blanket. He doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, nor the courage to quarrel with a hurt and cornered Keith. He’ll deal with it in the morning.  
Another night, another few hours of blissful memories can’t be that bad.

 

* * *

 

Except that they actually are.

By the time Keith finally returns, Lance is running circles behind the large residence of their host, while avoiding Pidge and the others who are on their way to breakfast (it actually tastes better than the goo they get in the castle).  
The rest of the night he has been lying awake with images of Keith in his mind that are impossible to shake off. Because what would he have done in his situation? His family is _everything_ to him. His brothers and sisters, his parents, his grandparents, all loving and embarrassing and encouraging from the beginning on. The mere thought of not having them around him or being separated from them due to some stupid argument makes him physically sick, regardless of the reasons and the exact circumstances Keith is alone and was at least for some time back down on Earth. No wonder he acts the way he does, Lance muses, all distant and always in control. He doesn’t know better.  
With the first light rolling over the hills Lance is up and talking to their host. He tries to be as casual as possible, shows interest in their culture and religious beliefs, until the alien finally mentions the cave on his own. Lance prods a bit, remembers about the ban to enter it, so that the alien slowly begins to elaborate.

He first mentions the crystal and its extraordinary energy, the way it helps them to stay hidden and to survive on a planet that is actually too close to the sun they orbit around.  
Then he warns Lance about the way it takes energy from them to survive, how it lulls them in with sweet promises like a predator does. It’s a give-and-take they are willing to accept under the given circumstances, but when he mentions that their bodies have learned to survive the absorbing power over millennia, Lance is already far from listening and storms out of the hall and past Shiro without another word.

Two hours later Keith enters his line of sight and before he is able to get even remotely close to the entrance, Lance steps out of the shadows and drags the surprised Paladin along to the back of the house.  
Another side that is just not Keith. Usually he would have seen him from a mile away.

“You can’t go back to it!”

“…what?”  
Keith looks genuinely confused, but it does nothing to ease the rapid beating of his heart and the pressing need to get through to him _somehow_.

“The crystal. It’s bad for you. I asked around and-“  
His voice abruptly cuts off, when the look in Keith’s eyes changes from concerned curiosity to steel-hard resolve and something akin to rage Lance hasn’t seen before in this particular form. It’s flaming red and warning, unconsciously he takes a step back, before he tries to refocus on Keith’s voice.  
“This doesn’t concern you,” he growls and if Lance hadn’t been running around with several worst-case scenarios in his head, he might have let him be. But the images of that lost boy in front of the crystal rising in his head are impossible to shove away.

“Well I’m sorry to break it to you, but it kinda is at this point, mullet head! This thing is feeding on your energy every time you go back there and as nice as the thought is, we still need you as a Paladin.”  
He had planned to do it all nice and calm, since Keith’s feelings are involved for a change and he seems to resemble Lance so much more that he had anticipated. He cares so incredibly much about his family, obviously, but every thought and feeling connected to them are carefully hidden away from the other Paladins and the outside world. Until the crystal came along and promised him the impossible.  
Keith’s lips are pressed into a thin line, when he turns around with a cold look in his eyes to get away from him as far as possible, but Lance rushes forward and grabs his arm one more time. He has to pull himself together and let those confusing feelings blend into his words for once. No teasing, no harsh words. This is not even remotely close to their usual banter.

“I’m sorry, Keith, please listen-“

He roughly pulls his arm out of Lance’s grab, but at least he stops for a moment. His face is turned away from him and Lance is barely able to understand the softly spoken words over the harsh wind in his ears.  
“I appreciate the warning, but I’ll manage this on my own.”

Then he leaves him behind.  
For the first time in forever Lance has no idea what to do.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes you have to let people be even if they are running towards their doom, because all the words in the world go unheeded.  
His father has probably told him a million times by now, but every time it just doesn’t feel right. Can’t they see, that he only has their best interest in mind? Don’t they realize, that he sometimes says stuff for a specific reason and not to antagonize them mindlessly?  
He knows people have to make their own mistakes to realize that a certain path is not the right one, but how in the world are you supposed to just stand by and watch?

The thought is tearing him apart and despite Keith’s words he isn’t able to let it simply go. Sleepless nights and silent watches at his window leave him restless and tensioned, until Hunk can’t endure it any longer and asks him. Shiro is next, so both he assures with an honest smile and a useless ‘thank you’ that yes, he is fine. The dark circles under his eyes are telling a different story, but he isn’t willing to run to them for help just yet.  
Below the worry and doubt he really wants to solve this by himself and show Keith that despite everything so far between them, Lance is someone he can rely on. And he won’t ever, if Lance carelessly brings in an adult and ends things right here and now.

And above all else he doesn’t want to rip Keith away from whatever the crystal is showing him, regardless of the danger the red Paladin is putting himself into. It has to do with his family and that alone is reason enough for Lance to give in at least partially.  
So he lies awake in his temporarily bed staring at the ceiling and letting Keith be, when a knock at his door pulls him out of his dark thoughts.

“Can… Do you mind if I come in?”  
Keith.

He is clad in the same robes he wore back in the cavern and looks into his eyes with an expression that makes his heart jump for a second. “Of course,” he mumbles quickly and sits up in his bed to maintain his composure at least a little bit. With an unmistakable signal to sit down beside him Lance glances up and is thrown back, despite of what has been going on lately, by the sheer despair in the other’s eyes.

“I-“  
His voice breaks and Lance feels him shaking, but instead of a comforting gesture he holds back out of fear that it’ll throw Keith off again.

“I think I made a mistake,” he whispers barely audible and finally returns the intense look Lance bathes him with. His heart clenches painfully and faced with the other boy’s wave of emotions he wonders briefly if they have ever witnessed the _real_ Keith at least once during their time together. Sure, this recklessness and determination have to be a part of him too, otherwise Red would never listen to him to begin with, but the amount of hurt and need he radiates like the sun they orbit around radiates its heat is too much.

How is he doing it?  
How can he not explode every once in a while from always holding back?  
What is he really thinking behind the partially mask he likes to show around?

And why of all people is it Lance who has to deal with it?  
Shiro would be a million times better, after all they have known each other before already and Keith has always had a deeper connection with their leader than with anyone else.  
Pidge would be harsh but to the point and then heal whatever mess was left behind with painful accuracy.  
Hunk would take the shaking form into his arms and tell him that it’ll get better and he already has his own little space family hovering around.

Instead Keith is stuck with plain old Lance.  
He decides to do a little bit of everything, takes a deep breath and places his hand carefully on the red Paladin’s shoulder. Then he looks back into those sparkling eyes and jumps over the dark pit in his stomach.  
“Yes you did,” he replies with a humorless smile, “but it’s about family, so who am I to judge of all people?”

It’s meant to lift the mood at least a little bit since Lance has never been good with that sorrowful kind of emotions, and to his surprise the corners of Keith’s mouth lift ever so slightly. It encourages him to do what he does best – the unexpected and something that probably wouldn’t have been on anyone else’s mind.

“Do you want to show me?”

 

* * *

 

Ever since Lance is able to think he loves to talk about his family.  
Pictures and funny memories included. No one who has to deal with him for more than five minutes has not heard about his little sister going rogue over a lost dessert or his big brother trying to smuggle unapproved content via Lance’s room and getting caught by his grandmom of all people.  
The need to share and to listen to what others’ families are like is endless – so it’s more or less frustrating for him with the group of people he is temporarily stuck with.

Keith and Shiro don’t talk about their past, period.  
Hunk has been his best friend since forever, so of course he knows every little detail there is to know about his small family.  
Pidge becomes too sad whenever she thinks about her brother and father, even though she does a good job at hiding it from her teammates.  
Allura and Coran lost their entire race a mere moment ago in their eyes, so talking about anything regarding Altea is already like stepping onto a minefield.

So as tragic as the circumstances might be, Lance of course craves to know about Keith’s family as much as possible. Admittedly though something else swings with the decision to drag his teammate back to the cave in the middle of the night, after he has told him to never get back to the crystal ever again.  
“You need to make your peace with it,” he tells Keith quietly, when he can’t stand the unspoken questions anymore and enters the cave with a resolve Lance doesn’t really feel at the moment. It’s probably dumb to drag him back here after he has just admitted that Lance was right, but simply breaking it off will be the wrong course of action for Keith.  
He is as complex as the tests back at the Garrison and as predictable as the next move the Galra empire is going to make; still Lance reckons Keith needs a little bit of peace for a change.  
Even if it’s just with a simple memory.

The cavern feels a lot colder than the two times before and the light isn’t as soothing as it used to be. Keith is unusually quiet again and seems to walk a step behind him while eying the crystal warily. Somehow he feels the need to reassure him, the guy he once thought of as his rival.  
“Don’t worry, I can blast that thing away with my bayard in a millisecond.”

Of course it’s a blatant lie and Keith knows as well, but the soft smile and the raised eyebrow are worth being a little silly every once in a while.  
Keith stops at the entrance of the inner cavern and glances at Lance with a mix of wonder and uncertainty. “You really don’t mind?”

Lance has no clue what to make of that question, so he earnestly shakes his head.  
“I don’t.” Whatever it is Lance apparently should be bugged about.

A deep sigh escapes Keith’s throat, as he looks back to the blazing crystal and absentmindedly wrings his hands which are partly covered by the large sleeves. The foreign look really suits him well.  
The sudden thought triggers another stumble of his heart, but thankfully Keith continues before Lance has to deal with… whatever that was.

“I’m scared.”  
A few days earlier Lance would have outright laughed at that statement coming from Keith, now it only makes him wonder whether Keith has maybe been as terrified as Lance faced with their unearthly mission.  
“Of what?” he presses carefully and barely raises his voice above a whisper. The place still has something holy to respect, despite what it may have been doing to his comrade.

“That I’ll forget them again. Their faces, their voices…”  
He trails off, clearly lost in a distant memory, and the look in his eyes reminds Lance of himself. Because when he is all by himself and staring out of a window into endless space, he looks exactly the same wondering if he’ll forget them over time. The deep laugh of his father, the loving smile of his mother, his siblings’ wonder in their eyes or the silent pride of the older ones.  
He is terrified that this fight against Zarkon will take up all of the time they have left living. For a cruel moment he is tempted to tell Keith about his fear, but somehow it doesn’t feel right. Lance didn’t bring him here to make him even more miserable.

“You won’t,” he declares instead with a firm and steady voice that tells nothing of his inner conflict. But the wonder in Keith’s eyes below the obvious surprise can only be worth it, he muses, and then continues with a dazzling smile, because that is how Keith knows him best.  
“After you’ve shown me I’ll always make sure to remind you from whom you’ve got that horrible mullet.”

The outright laugh Keith gifts him with is as unexpected as disarming. For a moment Lance wonders if he should pay more attention to the way his heart speeds up at the sound and the way he returns the honest smile with as much enthusiasm. With a shake of his head he puts the matter aside for now (because he really is _so_ not ready to go there even mentally) to lead the way over to the crystal. This time Keith follows him with less apprehension.

“Okay, just put your hand on the crystal, I guess. It should show you,” Keith suggests and kneels down gracefully. It should be forbidden to be able to do that in those clothes, especially with the short ponytail he still sports, Lance grumbles, then he follows suit though, tries to relax the clenched muscles in his shoulders and closes his eyes.

The crystal feels, contrary to his first assumption, warm and inviting under the palm of his hand. Immediately the feeling from the past days is back and fills him like one of those ice storms of the last visited planet, but instead of leaving him cold and raw, the warmth from his hand spreads over to the rest of his body.  
A pleasant sigh escapes his mouth, when he feels the careful prodding at the edge of his mind. All doubts are thrown aside, he trusts Keith that it won’t kill him on the spot, so he lets it enter with no restriction.

 _‘What do you desire, child?’_ it repeats its question and this time he feels so content, so sure of what it is, even if Lance can’t name it yet. The warmth seems to center somewhere in his chest and the presence slowly approaches it, as if it’s a small flame it doesn’t want to put out.

At first a laugh enters his mind.  
It’s like a song without words, a simple melody he could listen to all day and just… plain beautiful.

Then there is a feeling, someone’s hand in his.  
Smaller, but with rough patches. He feels content and protective and never wants to let go.

Eyes. So gorgeous eyes.  
Their color reminds him of lying on the roof of the Garrison at night and staring up into the night sky with a ‘What if?’ on his lips. They are a swirl of storming grey with patches of a deep blue.

A name enters his mind and with a horrified shriek he jumps backwards.

“Lance? Are you alright?”  
Keith is staring back at him with concern written all over his ~~pretty~~ face. For countless seconds all Lance can do is stare back at him. What he desired.  
Well fuck.

“Did you – did it work?” he asks hesitantly when it becomes obvious that Lance hasn’t been harmed accidently by the other being in his mind and soul – at least not bodily.  
With a shake of his head he stumbles over his words and still fears his heart it going to jump out of his chest any moment now. “No, I didn’t – it didn’t show me… I saw my – “  
His what? Hidden desire? Keith? For real?!

Maybe this thing is pissed at him for destroying whatever it had going on with Keith and this is its secret revenge. Yeah, that sounds quite logical. More logical than Lance wanting Keith in any way that is beyond simple, nice and easy friendship, especially when he just started seeing him in a different light entirely.

“Maybe I need to trigger it?” Keith continues absolutely clueless about his inner monologue and moves closer to the crystal and Lance’s side. “Here, put your hand on mine,” he commands and doesn’t wait for Lance’s protests, as he puts his hand confidently onto the glowing stone and closes his eyes.  
For a moment Lance is temped to get up and leave, but a hesitant look into Keith’s face keeps him glued to the ground. It is more relaxed, less tense nor littered with those heavy lines on his face. He looks a lot younger than with the warrior attitude he usually displays.

With a heavy sigh he complies, closes his eyes and lays his hand over Keith’s.  
It fits perfectly into his palm and even though the rushing feeling returns and pulls him towards another pool of warmth that hasn’t been there before, he is unable to ignore how close he is to him right now.  
…he is _so_ done for.

Voices enter his mind and ban every other thought.  
He can’t make out the words, it sounds as if he is underwater, while swirling forms out of smoke begin to take shape. The colors are all over the place and mainly ruled by the turquoise of the crystal, from the corner of his eyes he can see a few blobs of violet, before the scene changes and Lance is finally able to recognize a face in the masses.  
Her black hair stands out even in the blue-heavy color scheme and without a doubt she is Keith’s mother. The Asian shape of her face, the exact replica of Keith’s chin and cheekbones, the smile that turned Lance upside down just a moment ago…  
Only her eyes are different. The shape, the color - he can’t make it out in time, a heartbeat later her dancing form has disappeared in another whirl of fog, but they still seem so damn familiar…  
Another person appears out of thin air, his voice is deep and calming, while he stands with his broad shoulders towards Lance. The man turns around and his breathing comes to a halt. Those are Keith’s eyes without a doubt. The same grey-bluish tone, clearly seeable even through the turquoise tint, and the same sharp look that goes right through him to his deepest and darkest secrets.  
Only that the piercing glance isn’t focused on him but another form rushing out of the fog. A little boy, barely old enough to walk with a wild mop of black hair on his head runs towards the waiting man and is lifted up with the ghost of a smile on his father’s lips.

It’s Keith.  
Jesus Christ, that damn mullet head was a lady-killer even then with his big sparkling eyes and the flushed cheeks, as he raises an arm and is eager to show his father something in the same excitement Lance has seen in his own siblings once.  
He still can’t make out the words, when the tight grip is back and pulls him backwards. He wants to protest, another chance to catch a glimpse at Keith’s mother’s eyes and the purple spots in the corners of his eyes that keep appearing and look like shadows chasing each other through the thick fog –

With a loud gasp he finds himself kneeling in front of the crystal again in the cold cave and an equally exhausted Keith to his left.  
Instead of being as confused as Lance by the little things unresolved, Keith’s glowing form is taking his breath away with flushed cheeks and wide opened eyes that sparkle with barely hidden happiness.

“You saw them, right?”  
For a second all Lance can see in front of him is the little version of Keith surrounded by the same enthusiasm. It’s something he has to bring up more often in the older, more resolved form, Lance decides for himself and then nods with a growing smile on his face.

“I did.”  
He is tempted to mention how Keith looks just like his mother, a splitting image of her beautiful form, or that his eyes are an exact replica of his father’s. He wants to tell him that they both loved him madly, wherever they are now. The ghost of a smile on his father’s lips and the proud look in his mother’s eyes are clear enough –  
but Keith already knows.  
For days he has done nothing else than to stare at their dwindling forms. He knows.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers and again Lance wonders about the why, when he has done nothing really in the end. Keith though doesn’t seem to wait for an answer and visibly torn he hesitates for a moment, before his kneeling form clad in the aliens’ robe leans forward into his warm chest.  
Lance can’t talk, not even think. Once again the first images from the crystal enter his mind, this time impossible to push away, while his arms come to rest on Keith’s small back.

“No problem,” he quietly replies, while Keith’s own words from before enter his mind so ironically fitting.

_‘I think I made a mistake.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first One Shot I wrote for a prompt list.  
> I'd love to get some suggestions from you, so feel free to send any wish my way with your idea/ characters/ pairings, etc.!  
> You can find the prompt list right here on my Tumblr: http://milucarie.tumblr.com/post/155545090706/voltron-prompts


	2. [№ 16] 'If you want, we could go together?'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk's family is against him joining the Garrison. Lance is being Lance and tries to talk him out of being talked out of it.  
> Prompt by Wooster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Music tip:  
>  EDEN – Fumes**  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQPz8pz-SuM
> 
>  _Characters:_ Lance, Hunk  
>  _Pairing:_ none  
>  _Universe:_ Canon, pre S1  
>  _Prompt:_ “Hunk's family is against him joining the Garrison. Lance tries to talk him out of being talked out of it.” by Wooster

It takes him full three days to work up the nerve to tell Lance.  
Every time he wants to say something, his throat closes up.  
Every time he faces his best friend with as much courage as his little heart contains, he is crushed by the sheer enthusiasm of Lance. He is babbling about how they will be the best team there is, how they will even beat the newest top student the school brags about all over the news. For months it has been on their minds and with the day to sign up for one of the rare places coming closer and closer, it only gets worse.

“Maybe we won’t even be accepted. There are a lot of top students trying to enlist every year,” he interrupts Lance’s eulogy as casually as possible, while he lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling. Immediately he can feel two dark blue orbs focusing in on him and the other boy falls eerily silent. Because his nervousness can’t take it and his heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest every second now, he keeps talking.

“I mean – maybe only one of us gets accepted, but hey, better one than none, right?”  
His laugh is too high to be very convincing, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when Lance mutters a low “What the hell?” a second later and stands up from his position on the beanbag. He visibly flinches.

“Hunk?”  
Look him in the eyes as innocently as possible, he babbles to himself in his head, put on a nice, convincing smile.  
Instead he grimaces as if he is in pain and blinks everywhere but at his best friend hovering over him like death with its scythe. Close enough comparison at the moment, he muses and finally croaks out a “Yeah?” that is too innocently even to his own ears.

And then Lance just stays quiet and it makes Hunk more anxious than the usual reprimanding or pissed off form of his friend. Slowly he glances to his left. He is still watching him and has his eyes narrowed to slits; his arms are crossed in front of his chest, before he finally asks:  
“Are you possessed or something?”

“What?”  
The question throws him off so much that he sits up and blinks confused at his best friend, nervousness temporarily forgotten. Overdramatically Lance throws his arms into the air and sighs, like Hunk’s mother always does when they did something immensely stupid. It is amusing and painful at the same time, because it reminds him of her firm words.

“You were the one to talk me into this in the first place, now you wanna bail on me?! What about our coming victory over this Shirogane guy-“

“Wasn’t he like… your hero just yesterday?!”

“-or about our first mission together in space you keep talking about-“

“No! That’s _your_ death wish you talk about, _I_ want to live a long and healthy life, thank you very much!”

“-or this fancy program that got your interest in the first place?” Lance finishes with a barely hidden smile on his face, as if he just played his highest card. And in some way he did. The programs at the Garrison are unrivaled in the whole country – only Asia is able to bring up young cadets with equal or higher talent and finesse. All the space-part of the job went right over his head faced with the opportunity to get a degree at the Garrison.

“You know the Caltech is way more focused on engineering than the Garrison, so-“ he tries and knows his excuse is too weak to work on Lance, but he still can’t get the truth out, even when his best friend confronts him with every glorified possibility he has picked out over the last months.  
“So you throw away your future career at NASA as one of the tops of your field for a university that hasn’t brought up geniuses since the beginning of the 21st Century?”  
With a deep sigh he hides behind his hands and listens to Lance’s footsteps. He crosses the room in furious strides and begins to talk himself into a rage. Hunk probably should interfere, but…

“And that’s what I really don’t get – you talked me into this, I reminded you countless times that we’ll be in space at some point if you want to finish your degree, but then you kept talking about your future career and how you would even go to fucking space for it… And now you just want to bail?!”  
Lance stops in front of his bed once again and the disbelief and frustration ringing in his voice are too much to bear. His friend is too emphatic for his own good, even though he never shows on the outside. He worries and wonders whether he is to blame for whatever is going on with one of his friends instead of outright asking like he does in every other situation.  
Now he pretends to be pissed and angry and clearly not amused, but to Hunk, who has studied Lanceology since their shared childhood together, the hidden fear of being the reason is as obvious in Lance’s eyes as the trembling of his fingertips.

“My parents.”  
His voice shakes out of fear and at the reminder of their harsh words, so he keeps his closed eyes hidden behind his hands to block out the world around him. Lance keeps quiet. Hunk continues.  
“They talked to me on Wednesday about it, they… they don’t want me to go.”

For several seconds the unfamiliar tension in the room is raised by the heavy silence between them – then Lance utters an unimpressed but audibly relieved “And?”

“Nothing ‘and’ - it’s too dangerous, they can’t afford it. Tried to show them that I really, _really_ wanna go there - didn’t work. End of story. I’m… I won’t be going to the Garrison.”  
Something heavy bubbles up and resonates in his voice, it’s strained and suddenly filled with the threat of upcoming tears. It’s final.  
“But- didn’t you tell them about the scholarship you’ll probably get?! With your notes they would be insane to not take you!”

“Of course I did, what do you think? Dad says there are at least a dozen other people just like me from all over the world and the chance to get through the test with high enough points to get the scholarship is-“

“Bullshit!”

“Excuse you?!”

“He is wrong - there is no one like you! Not here nor anywhere else on the damn planet.”  
For a moment Hunk is thrown back and just… _stares_. Lance looks personally offended by the mere thought, if his balled fists and the angry expression on his face are anything to go by. It warms his heart in a comforting way and lights the dark thoughts up that remained from the fight with his parents. There he is, his best friend, empathic and passionate and pissed off, as if he is the one being told off.

“And ‘dangerous’ is completely unverified - there haven’t been any major accidents or deaths for the past decade.”  
The heat in his stance is lighting up his eyes as Lance pulls Hunk up to his own two feet, hands resting on his shoulders. “You will go down there and tell them exactly that! I am **not** going alone to the Garrison, unless you want me to mess up with a newbie by my side to prove your parents right, when I’ll have my first space mission!”

“But- but I can’t just-“

“Yes, you can! You still want to go to the Garrison, don’t you?”

“What a question, of course, but-“

“No but, you will go down there and tell them it’s your dream and their damn obligation as your parents to not stand in your way!”  
Lance is close to shouting, but his sheer endless energy is finally jumping over to Hunk. His fear is being overwhelmed by the excitement, by the ‘Lance is right!’ echoing through his mind and the imagine of himself at the Garrison. He can’t give this up, not for the world. Not even for his parents.

“Heck yes you’re right!”

“Yeah, now go young padawan, make me proud!”

“Oh you bet!”  
He slams the door behind himself and makes two steps down the hallway, until the voice of his mother shouts up the stairs to not slam the doors with a firmness that stops him dead in his tracks.  
Two seconds later he shoves his head through the gap in his door and helplessly blinks at Lance, who wears a big smile on his encouraging face as if he’s already been waiting for him. “If you want, we could go together?”

Two months later they pass the recruitment exam with flying colors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to air a lot sooner, but I got sick with the flu and was bed-ridden for a fucking week. Yay me.  
> But now I'm fit again, so hit me with some more prompts. Already got a lot in my mind, some for S2, too.
> 
> Send any wish my way with your idea/ characters/ pairings, etc.!  
> You can find the prompt list right here on my Tumblr: http://milucarie.tumblr.com/post/155545090706/voltron-prompts


	3. [№ 42] 'I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you.'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is Lance doing down there?”  
> “His suit has the ability to create a virtual mindscape, reflecting its wearer’s greatest hopes and fears."  
> "A hologram.”  
> “And, at this moment, your friend desperately wants to see him.”
> 
>  
> 
> _“Keith, you have to calm down first, come on, just – look at me, babe.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Music tip:  
>  Alan Walker - Force**  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqYQXIt4SpA
> 
>  _Characters:_ Lance, Keith, Shiro, others  
>  _Pairing:_ Klance  
>  _Universe:_ Canon, during S2

He can’t tell how long he’s been unconscious, but it can’t have been very long.  
His body is still throbbing with pain and no one is with him in the room. Not Shiro, not the people who are after his blade. For a moment he gives in to the urge to close his eyes once again and to drift away into the blissful nothingness waiting at the edge of his consciousness. Just a little longer, then he’ll be for sure able to get up, just a minute…

“Hey sleeping beauty.”

It’s neither the half-hearted teasing that gets to him, nor the recognition that makes his heart stumble a bit – it’s the fact that Lance of all people shouldn’t be here right now.  
If he is, something must have gone wrong, after all they had a completely different agreement.  
If he is, he must have gotten past those stubborn guys somehow – a fight? Is their hope for an alliance against Zarkon already dead and buried?  
If he is, from all the way from the castle, then why isn’t Shiro?

Panic sets in and despite the heaviness of his eyelids and the pain exploding in his head, as the bright light blinds his unfocused eyes, he sits up and grabs his blade with trembling fingers. “What-“ he begins with a croaking voice and wonders briefly how long exactly he has been out of it, when a shadow appears in the left corner of his eyes and makes him twirl around as fast as his battered body is able to given the circumstances.  
“Hey, hey – calm down, it’s just me, you’re fine now, promise.”

With raised hands Lance’s form slowly crouches down in front of a kneeling Keith, before he gifts him with one of his cocky smirks. The apprehension begins to fade away for some sweet relief, when he realizes that they are alone. No more deadly fighters, no teammates to rob him of what he needs most at the moment. But still… it doesn’t sit right with him. Lance has a tendency of bending the truth every so often, if it means he is able to get rid of Keith’s foreboding tension he never was fond of. “Where are the others? What happened?” he asks with a bit more breath than before and relaxes visibly, when Lance comes a bit closer and puts his hand on Keith’s right arm still holding the dagger.

“They are alright. You beat those guys – no one managed to get as far as you did, they said,” Lance explains with obvious pride in his voice that always makes Keith blush a little. This time though he doesn’t mention it like he usually does to make it worse, instead he continues and ignores Keith’s more urgent question.  
“To be honest it all turned out a bit different than expected – they still want your blade.” Something in Lance’s tone is off, the pressing feeling in his stomach returns and leaves him resistant to the soft ministrations of the hand running up and down his tense arm.

“Keith, you have to calm down first, come on, just- look at me, babe.”  
He loses the hidden steel in his voice and makes way for what always gets to Keith. Cocky, but not too much, charming, but not too obvious, and then full of the overwhelming love that usually is reserved for quiet hours in the darkness of the castle.  
Warm fingertips brush over his cheek, with a sigh he isn’t able to hold back Keith succumbs to the hidden demand and turns his head to his fellow Paladin. His face is closer than anticipated and for a moment the wordless desire in his boyfriend’s eyes is taking his breath away.

And finally he leans forward and presses his soft lips onto Keith’s, who is melting away and caught a moment later by Lance’s chest and his strong arms around his back. His muscles go lax, the tight grip around his blade eases up and his eyes flutter close as he enjoys the feeling of Lance’s hand gripping his neck and deepening the kiss.  
It is exactly how he needs it to be – furious and wild, a mix of all the emotions running through his confused mind, but still full of the love and steadiness he needs from Lance to find his way back out of old memories and the lingering arms of his father.  
The kiss, Lance _himself_ , is exactly what he needs, what he wants right now –

And that’s when it finally clicks in his mind.  
He freezes in Lance’s arms, eyes wide open, before he pushes him forcefully away. The pain returns to his body, he can’t twist away from him as fast as he would have liked and tries to grab his blade, but it has disappeared into one of ~~Lance’s~~ that guy’s hands. His heart is pounding rapidly against his ribcage and his breathing is way above normal, when he turns around on stumbling feet to face his next opponent.

Because Lance, the _real_ one, would never be perfect.  
He doesn’t do what Keith wants, he doesn’t react the way he would have anticipated him to. Lance goes with the flow, he shows him how he feels in the most unusual ways for Keith, he likes to surprise him with little gestures and hidden winks behind the others’ backs. He would have made sure Keith isn’t hurt first, then he would have taken him to Shiro to get him out of here as fast as possible. And late at night, when Keith would have been released from Coran’s watchful eyes in the infirmary, he would sneak into his room to sleep by his side. Only in the morning, when he wakes up with bruises all over his body and the accompanying aches, Lance would have finally kissed him – soft and slow with the brightest of smiles on his face.

Lance never is what Keith wants him to be.  
He is what Keith never realizes he needs to keep breathing in the oppressing vastness of space.

“Who the fuck are you?”  
Despite his threatening growl the Lance-imposer comes a little bit closer and still pretends to have no clue what Keith is talking about. But there are things he notices now, the relaxed stance as he slowly steps forward, the half-smile still implanted onto his face as well as the way he holds the dagger.  
His Lance would tense and back up to not aggravate him further.  
His Lance would never have picked up the blade.

He especially wouldn’t hold it as if he were about to attack Keith.

“Those guys messed you up badly, didn’t they? You should have just given them the damn blade, it would have spared us all this mess, you know?”  
“Shut up!” he screams in a fit of rage, because Lance doesn’t talk like that with this ugly grin planted onto his face. He isn’t smug or arrogant, even if Keith has thought so some time ago, before he learned to love and to see beyond his iron-will like need to survive.  
“What did you do to him?” he growls threateningly in a tone that throws him temporarily back in time, when he was surrounded by pain and fear and constant darkness. A time before Shiro, before his helping hand pulled him out of the misery he had ended up in.  
A time before he met Lance – beautiful, kind and happy Lance. Not this abomination.

“Keith, come on, you’re clearly overreacting,” he tries again without noticing that it’s the final straw. With a scream that hurts his throat Keith lungs forward as quickly as if he hasn’t fought whole armies just mere minutes ago, as if it isn’t the image of his boyfriend he attacks. The imposer raises the blade in a stance that is impossible to be Lance’s, who has no clue how to properly defend himself even if his life depended on it. He has no weapon and no energy left to win this fight, but he is Keith. He fights against the odds since his birth.  
His left arm pretends to go for imposer-Lance and as he tries to come around with the blade, Keith lungs out with his right and barrels his fist straight into his shoulder. He doesn’t even blink nor does he show any sign of being in pain, as he ignores the fatal move and shoves Keith’s blade towards his side he left open without any defense.

A stupid little mistake born out of sheer exhaustion.  
He should have grabbed his wrist with his left hand.  
He should have known it wasn’t Lance from the beginning on.  
He should have…

Maybe he should have given them the damn blade, he ponders, as it reaches his undefended side and Keith closes his eyes.

* * *

 

Shiro is already up and about, ready to pass their supposed allies, when a voice from the speaker renders him immobile.

 _“Hey sleeping beauty.”_  
His brain has barely caught up on the fact that it is Lance’s voice, as his body already comes to a stop in front of the person clearly in charge with Shiro’s changed arm pressed against his throat. If Lance is here, they must have either let the others through in a sudden urge of misplaced kindness – or they have overpowered them. If they actually did, despite the strong defense of the castle, despite the other Paladins and their lions, despite the agreement, there is no reason left not to kill them, especially with Keith barely coherent and bleeding out on the floor.  
In a fluent move his opponent has turned things around impressively quick and the rest of the in cloaks wrapped resistance doesn’t even lift a finger. “Look,” he mumbles with no emotions reverberating in his deep voice and despite his thudding heart in his chest and the hidden need to cut off the arm that holds the slim dagger over his heart (so damn similar to Keith’s), he risks a glance at the monitor.

 _“Hey, hey – calm down, it’s just me, you’re fine now, promise.”_  
Lance is completely unharmed, as far as he can see. No rigid movements, no flinches, no hissing, no pain in his eyes. Something is off though, a lingering feeling in his chest, while he stares at the boy.  
There has been no alarms for him to hear, no sight of something going not as planned. The group around him is as calm as they can be, Shiro recons, but it doesn’t make any sense. Why would they let someone in here despite their agreement, let alone straight to Keith without batting an eye, while they keep Shiro back like a prisoner when all he wants to do is help the kid?

“What is Lance doing down there?” he asks with a hint of caution, as the voice of the blue Paladin is loud and clear for them to hear through the speakers. It’s a weird sight to see. Lance tries to calm Keith down with words and gestures – something Shiro is quite used to from the emphatic Paladin, but directed at Keith…?

“His suit has the ability to create a virtual mindscape, reflecting its wearer’s greatest hopes and fears,” Kolivan explains calmly. And then, while Lance places his hand oh so tenderly onto Keith’s shaking one, it finally dawns on him. The castle hasn’t moved, there has been no attack –  
With a rigid move he turns his head towards Kolivan, who waits by his side, dagger hidden again and watches the scene patiently. “A hologram.”

Slowly Shiro’s eyes wander over to the screen again, over Keith’s kneeling form, bloody and beaten, over fake Lance – greatest hopes and fears? Since when has there been a connection deep enough between the two combative Paladins for Keith to wish him by his side in a situation like this? Have they finally overcome their rivalry for something better, something Voltron desperately needs at this point to survive against Zarkon?  
Another question lingers on the tip of his tongue, but Kolivan continues in his heavy voice, ever so void of any emotions despite the deeper meaning of his words.

“And, at this moment, your friend desperately wants to see him.”

_“Keith, you have to calm down first, come on, just – look at me, babe.”_

And while both of their voices mix up, Shiro finally understands. It’s not that hard regarding the fact that Lance is leaning forward to kiss Keith with a familiarity that says it all.

* * *

 

When Pidge tells them that she got through somehow, he anticipates the castle to fly straight for the rare opening or Allura to send them to their lions to bail their teammates out of whatever mess they got themselves into again.  
Instead there is a flickering image replacing the current one of the hidden base of their – hopefully – future alliance. For a second they stare at it in anticipation-filled silence, eager to see what has occurred so far –

Lance’s heart stops, the sudden screams and commands around him fade away into a distant echo, while his wide opened eyes are fixed onto the screen in front of them. Distantly he is aware of the other pictures flickering up: the overview of the base, Red’s location, possible weak points brought up by Pidge –  
But none of them really matter, as he stares at Keith’s unconscious form clad in a dark uniform he isn’t familiar with. He looks horrible. Dark bangs hang into his pale face, an ugly bruise begins to form at his jaw line and the blood sprinkled onto his cheeks and the rest of his body does nothing to ease the pain in Lance’s stuttering heart.  
The slight lifting of Keith’s chest though finally brings him back at least so far that he hears the distant command of Allura directed at him. Even before she finishes it, the weapons of the castle are ready and distantly humming with the need to unload their deadly power onto their enemies.

Keith is hurt.  
Oh god, he is injured, actually _unconscious_ and oh god he really needs to calm down right now but _fuck, Keith is in fucking danger and they -  
_ “Lance stop!”

He flinches and stares to his left with blinking eyes.  
Allura’s gaze is sharp and piercing, below though is something hidden that pushes the panic in his veins a little bit further away. Enough to make him understand what she means.  
“Don’t-fire!”  
His fingers are hovering over the pad, one of the lasers is already powering up for the attack he was about to unleash onto them in white burning fury that they brought upon themselves.  
With a shaky nod he pulls his fingers away as if burned by the lingering thought that he could have made it all worse and by the cautious looks thrown in his direction. “Sorry,” he mutters and feels Hunk’s lingering gaze onto him, until he concentrates on the princess again.

“Anything on contacting Shiro?”

“Nothing yet. I can’t locate him via other security footage either, this is the only feed we are able to hijack at the moment,” Pidge answers Allura and as usual gives her more information than asked for, while her fingers rush over her console at dizzying speed.

“What about Keith?”

“Alive but unconscious, that’s all we are able to make out at the moment. It looks like he has been in a severe fight if we take the kind of his injuries into account,” Coran’s voice replies as he normally would and Lance can’t keep the frown off of his face. Why don’t they panic? Why don’t they worry, why don’t they want to go in guns blazing in a fiery act of revenge that burns at the tips of Lance’s fingers?  
For all they know he could be dying, bleeding out or succumbing to an internal wound only the cryo-pods are able to heal. Shiro could already be dead, while their supposed allies are taking Red apart piece by piece, until there is nothing left than two cold bodies and superior alien technology in their hands.

“You were the one most skeptical about this so-called resistance and now you hold back to not piss them off while Keith dies? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He has stepped over the line, of course he knows, but even Allura’s furious look isn’t able to contain the rage slowly bubbling up. “We should be already on our way down there to _save_ him! We-“  
“-will kill him if we attack. Because if our weapons won’t, they will. Right now he and Shiro are their hostages. If you have a brilliant plan to get them out of there without causing any more trouble, I’m all ears.”  
If the situation wouldn’t be so dire Lance might have laughed at Allura picking up human phrases, but as it stands he evades her blue eyes that pierce through his body like Keith’s, when they are all alone and talking about the fears hidden deep inside of their chests in comforting darkness. She is right, but it doesn’t make it any better. Not one bit.

_“Hey sleeping beauty.”_

His voice is as unexpected as it is disturbing with the tension-filled silence of the bridge and it’s a first that he feels uncomfortable under their undivided attention. There is a mix between confusion and anger in their eyes at the bad timing of the easy-going tone in his voice, especially after his little tantrum just mere moments ago, but he can kind of understand them. It’s nothing he would have said, especially now, but then again… He kind of has. Before Lance is able to defend himself despite the fact that is _was_ his voice, it echoes around them once more. With a look towards the screen they finally understand.

_Hey, hey – calm down, it’s just me, you’re fine now, promise.”_

It’s him.  
His body, his hair, his voice, his stance, his _fucking_ smile, the one he gives Keith in secret whenever he knows the other boy to be upset, his damn skin, his eyes, his expression –  
“What is this?” he whispers with a voice that sounds too strained in his ears, but he can’t take his eyes away from himself.  
He touches Keith, softly and with a care that makes him want to puke. It’s not his hand on Keith’s injured arm, slowly stroking up and down to soothe the confused boy who is looking around wearily.

It hurts.  
It physically hurts to watch, to not be there by Keith’s side to hold him and tell him that no one can get to him. It hurts to be put on display like that in front of everyone who matters up here, because at least Hunk knows the instant he looks into fake Lance’s eyes.  
Quickly he whips his head around, but Lance ignores Hunk’s silent question once more to stare at the unwavering image in front of them. They weren’t ready to let them know yet. It’s fresh and unfamiliar and oh so fucking beautiful whatever they have going on. Above all they want to keep it going and the thought of involving the others, of making it official sets of a whole other kind of panic he didn’t know existed up until now. Every little thing feels as if it can rip what they have build for themselves apart effortlessly, so they keep it secret and continue to explore and learn and love.

God, loving Keith is like a fucking drug.  
It makes him want to rip his hair out, whenever he does something stupid on a daily basis.  
It also makes him want to get better at everything.  
His dorky flirts that Keith secretly loves despite the displayed annoyance, whenever he enters the room to one out of Lance’s endless repertoire. His way to spill everything out that goes on in his mind, while Keith just shoves it all inside – he wants to open it up oh so carefully and let it all out, because the guy waiting below all the dark thoughts and memories can only be more breathtaking than his boyfriend already is.  
A few months ago he would have outright laughed at the insanity of the mere thought of Keith and Lance actually being a thing, of him having emotions for the quiet Asian boy who seems to live life on a whole other level than Lance ever has. Sometimes it feels as if he sprung out of an action movie, a soldier ready to kill and defeat whoever is brave enough to stand in his way. His fighting skills are unmatched, not even Shiro can keep up with his fluent way to move and strike like an assassin out from the shadows.  
And like a soldier he has an emotional shitload of baggage that sometimes makes Lance doubt whether he really is the right one for this job.

Because Keith has nightmares.  
They are ugly and horrible and especially frightening, when he doesn’t recognize Lance for a second or two. He never really talks about them, Lance still has no clue what is tormenting Keith in his sleep, but… He isn’t sure whether he’ll ever be ready to listen to all the darkness and pain that took over the bright child Lance is able to coax out on blessed and rare occasions, when Keith laughs unhinged and in a way that makes Lance want to kiss him long and deep.

Then there are his… issues.  
Lance isn’t sure what to call them exactly, because sometimes they are a mix between crippling anxiety and severe depression, but then he manages to turn it all around and be the guy Shiro swears he really is. He laughs and jokes and even plays pranks – when they are all alone and the thoughts of the looming war are blown away in the mist that surrounds them whenever they start to act on their feelings.  
It begins with soft kisses in the middle of the night after a conversation that leaves them both unable to sleep. It continues with careful touches and trembling fingers on flat stomachs and two bodies tightly pressed together, until Keith finally opens up. It is gorgeous.  
His eyes are alight like the fireworks Lance used to watch with his little siblings back on earth and his words are graced with a light kind of tone –  
And then he shies away from friendly pats on the back and goes all quiet and concerning at easy celebrations and happy occasions the next day. Just like that. So Lance keeps coaxing the real Keith out of his shell again and again and again.  
But it’s not that easy. Not at all. He can’t stand large crowds and throws mistrustful glances over his back, whenever he is unable to get a clear view of their surroundings. He gets angry when his team fails to see the possible danger they are in, when they all feel perfectly save on a foreign but welcoming planet. He stays awake at night more than is healthy, when they don’t sleep in the castle far off from Galra territory or planets they haven’t personally checked out yet.

He is complicated at his best and it scares the shit out of Lance – one wrong move, one wrong word and there might be more damage done than he is able to repair – but at the same time it is what pulls Lance towards him.  
Loving Keith is sometimes like a drug. At times it’s unhealthy, it’s dangerous (more than once Lance has woken up to a sweaty Keith crouching above him with his knife at his throat, when a nightmare was too real again) and deadly (because he would give himself up to save Keith in a heartbeat), but…  
It’s like flying. It pushes him on and on and on to do better, to look out for someone in a way that requires all of his social skills. It enables him to do the impossible, it changes him into a person he actually imagines his family to admire and be proud of. It destroys the dark thoughts that sometimes enter his mind and erases all the doubts.

And at times it brings an anger to the surface not even Hunk is familiar with.

When his double puts his hand onto Keith’s bruised cheek, Lance balls his hands into tight fists.  
When Keith reacts to his touch and visibly relaxes, his muscles painfully tense.  
When fake Lance pulls _his_ boyfriend into a kiss, he is absolutely livid. Harsh profanities leave his mouth in an angry snarl and from the corner of his eye he can see Hunk pale a bit. Not that it matters. They know, they all fucking know and fake _fucking_ Lance is kissing Keith. With a unexpectedly loud “Fuck this shit!” he leaves his station and turns to rush out of the door. At first the others are too perplex by the sudden revelation and his more than out of character-y behavior, but when they are able to pick up the equally agitated roar of Blue in the distance of the bay, Allura snaps out of it and bells something at him he can’t hear over the thudding of his racing heart in his ears.

Then hands are on him, Hunk and Coran, and even though he usually wouldn’t stand a chance against their combined strength, they have to put up quite a fight to keep him on the bridge. “Let me go, I’m gonna punch this _hijo de puta_ into the next century for even thinking about touching him!”  
They try to calm him down and reply something to his low growl, but Keith’s voice stops him dead in his tracks in a millisecond. Hunk and Coran are still clinging onto him, partly just to make sure he doesn’t bail on them, but mostly due to the fact that they are as surprised about the defensive and suddenly distrustful tone in the young Paladin’s voice as Lance is.

 _“Who the fuck are you?”_  
They are standing several meters apart, Keith’s knife in fake Lance’s hand and the calculating look on Keith’s face Lance is more than familiar with.  
For a moment all the anger bleeds out, while Lance is trying to get what is going on exactly, but every thought in his mind _dies_ , when Keith rushes at the glinting knife and the cold, terrifying grin on his double’s face.  
And when Keith’s attack fails, the one that always gets him out of the most impossible situations, when the knife slices down with deadly precision, when it buries itself in Keith’s side with nauseating ease, his legs give way and a sound leaves his throat that makes Hunk tighten his grip on him.

Blood. There is too much fucking blood on the screen.

* * *

 

The pain doesn’t hit until he hears a familiar shout behind of him.  
His legs stumble backwards, his arms shove his attacker away and one of his hands grabs the solid knife buried in his left side somewhere below his ribs. Everything seems off. The sudden rush of adrenalin is gone, evaporated in his last attack that should have broken Lance’s shoulder. But then again it isn’t Lance. He figured out that much at least.  
His feet stumble back some more steps, but with each one it gets harder and harder to stay upright. It’s impossible to keep his thoughts straight – every fleeting idea rushes off to make way for another desperate grasp at what is going on. He should run forward, fight this evil abomination and get out of here. He needs his knife, a weapon. Where – Right, his side. That’s where the burning is coming from.  
Slowly his mind is able to assemble the pictures inside of his head, fake Lance, the failed attack, the unexpected stab, the shout behind of him –

Keith is about to turn around, to see for himself whether it’s another hallucination or real help this time, when his legs give way under his weight. Two strong arms catch him before he is able to hit his head on the hard, cold ground and pull him into a warm chest that rises steadily with quick breaths.  
The pain hits full force and sends a jolt through his aching body that makes him writhe in his saviors arms with a low moan, but it all flows to the back of his mind, as one thought takes over. It’s Shiro. No evil copy, no mindless robot trying to kill him, no stupid hallucination.

“Keith? Buddy, can you hear me?!”

They can’t fake the familiarity that spreads in his chest and gives him some warmth he is desperately missing at the moment. At least he prays that they can’t, because if he is wrong, if this is another mind game, he’ll actually loose it. Not Shiro as well. Please, not him as well, the only thing he has left that vaguely counts as family in this good-forsaken universe (Earth doesn’t cover it any more).  
But his touch is warm and careful, his words firm and steady to guide him away from the blackness at the edge of his consciousness. Not once do his fingers land on the blade. He would have taken it by now, right? With words of reason to cover his intent and promises to erase the pain if Keith only gives up…

“Keith? Hey, kid? Come on, talk to me!”  
And he would recognize the concern in his voice probably out of a million. By now he must have heard it more often than his own name, if he counts all the times he stumbled into the older man’s room with bruises or a deafening silence that said it all.  
“…’m fine,” he manages with a trembling voice and leans heavily into his mentor’s chest, before Shiro’s head snaps up at a sudden noise coming from the other side of the room. Vaguely Keith wonders where fake Lance went, as he tries – and quickly fails – to listen to the heated conversation Shiro and whoever-it-is share. With each pounding of his heart the wound is set aflame and sends a web of pure agony through every fiber of his body. Without the knife still buried in his side it might have been bearable.

Suddenly the warmth is gone and the shiver roaring through his shoulders and down his back intensifies the pain for a second, before he realizes that he lies on the ground behind Shiro’s standing form. In the blinding light coming from behind of Shiro the tall figure in front of him is illuminated in a wrap of mystic white light that reminds Keith of happier times once upon a life which he imagined for himself. When everything wasn’t as dark and harsh, when they weren’t as brutal and unforgiving.  
The voices pick up and turn into screams filled with a rage that rings every alarm bell in Keith’s mind that isn’t overflowed with the lurking unconsciousness yet. Something is wrong – beside the whole situation in itself and the knife in his side. The light is reflected by a metal surface and blinds him. Shiro’s arm. Transformed? Why? Is he fighting? His body is too quick and only a dark blur in front of his eyes, but his movements are too coordinated to be anything else. Left, right, further right, then left again… He gets dizzy and nauseous, so he closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again after taking some shaky breaths, everything is a little bit more focused.

There are more spots than before. Their colors are a bit lighter than Shiro’s familiar dark one, whom they have surrounded. There is more glinting stuff between the rays of light, weapons.  
“Stop…”  
His voice is too weak, inaudible to the fighting warriors in front of him. Shiro will probably be fine, but then again this is an enemy so much more complicated than those they have faced before. They don’t stop. There are endless waves after endless waves; they even pull mind tricks to get to them. And mind tricks and Shiro don’t mix very well.  
Something ugly spreads in his chest. He knows it’s unreasonable, he knows it’s probably due to the throbbing, constant pain, the adrenaline and the blood loss – but nonetheless the worry spreads faster than anything else and pushes images into his mind he has nearly forgotten by now.  
He’ll be alone. Like he always was. Shiro – probably dead. No way to contact him, no way to find out what happened to him so far away on the other side of the galaxy. There is sand, so much fucking sand; that’s all there ever is. No people, no anything, no Shiro. No friendship that gives him something new and fresh and to thrive for.

He can’t go there again. Even with Lance by his side (whom he attacked just mere minutes ago).  
So he pushes his tingling arms under his chest and pushes himself up. It feels like a lifetime and everything is swirling in front of his eyes again for several seconds, until his vision returns enough to show him how dire the situation is.  
Shiro is out of his mind. He is absolutely ruthless, slice after slice are aimed at the most vital points of their supposed allies (when the hell did Keith _ruin_ all this?!) and only their superb training prevents any fatalities as far as he is able to see.  
But Shiro’s blinded rage is what finally brings him down. Someone is approaching him from behind, weapon raised and aimed at his heart. Keith’s own stops, while he imagines him to slowly pull the trigger. No.

And suddenly there is a scream tearing through the battle-filled noise and all movements stop. The dizziness is back in a rush Keith didn’t expect and only when his arms nearly give out again under the unbearable weight of his weak body does he realize that it was his voice. His desperate “Stop!”. His bloody dagger that is embedded in the wall opposite of him and mere centimeters near the guy’s head who was about to kill Shiro.

“Take it,” he whispers and for once his voice is audible in the tension-filled silence, while their eyes are solely focused on him. His eyes stare at the shifting ground beneath him. “It isn’t worth it. None of this is. Just… don’t hurt them. Please.”

It’s a shame that he doesn’t see the glowing of his knife anymore and can’t hear Kolivan’s words of appreciation, while his body stops resisting the lulling darkness at the edge of his mind that finally takes over his consciousness even before he hits the ground with an ugly thud.

* * *

When he comes around again he feels uncomfortably numb.  
His fingers twitch under the tremendous effort to try and lift his hand.  
There are no noises. Not the familiar wind howling through his little shag in the middle of nowhere. No coyotes in the distance howling away. No sound of the old record of his father Keith plays at night, when the pain and loneliness are too much to bear without tears and when he just wants to hear his calm voice again.

“Babe? You awake?”  
Instead he is greeted by another one. It’s so overwhelmingly familiar, that the memories of the past hours rush into his groggy mind at lightning speed and leave him light-headed. With a gasp he opens his eyes and stares into two brown, worried orbs above him. At the sight of him being awake they begin to glow and loose the gloomy shine as fast as Keith is used to from Lance.  
The smile spreading on his face sparks off a similar one on his own chapped lips like a roaring wildfire that can’t be stopped. His face hurts as well as the rest of his body, but the happiness unfurling in his chest can’t be dimmed one bit with the feeling of his hand in Lance’s, as the other boy puts his other one carefully onto Keith’s cheek.

“I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you. What the hell were you thinking?”  
The half-hearted angry tone in his voice turns the smile on Keith’s face into a fine grin and a moment later Lance leans forward to kiss him unexpectedly deep regarding Keith’s current condition and his general disorientation after just waking up.  
This is _his_ Lance. It’s him in all of his troublesome and startling glory that Keith will never get enough of (at least that he is sure of these days). The knowledge and full on certainty are so reassuring that his clenched muscles finally relax under the soft touch of his real boyfriend (because why else would they be on the castle of all places, when there are so many more dark places in his mind to get another punch in on him?). For a second or two he thinks distantly about telling Lance of his vision-like state of unconsciousness. About his father’s words, the feelings that crawled back to the surface while seeing him again, the choice that made him feel like a traitor, when he turned his back on his own father…  
Maybe not yet.

“What happened?” he asks instead in a too small voice for his own liking and looks around the otherwise abandoned sickbay to make sure they are alone. The look on Lance’s face he is able to make out from the corner of his eye, before he turns back to him and is faced with the same seemingly reassuring smile, is doing the exact opposite and with growing concern he studies Lance’s eyes. “What went wrong?”

“Beside the fact that you nearly got yourself killed because of that stupid blade?”  
Yeah, okay. That one is fully deserved.

Instantly the silent accusation melts away and with a deep sigh Lance sits down on the side of his bed and grabs his hand once more. “Pidge was able to get a signal sometime in between. Just a video feed she hijacked, nothing more, but… We saw you. After the fight Shiro told us about. You were unconscious and bleeding and then… I turned up.”  
They know. Oh god, they actually know about Lance and Keith.

Lance ignores the slight alarm in Keith’s eyes (mostly because he stares at the wall above the bed) and continues.  
“After Shiro turned up to save the day, everything kinda escalated – still not sure how exactly. Red went completely crazy and we were able to get her off of them with our lions, while you threw that thing at them and somehow must have impressed them in the process, because they were very willing to give it back to you afterwards.”  
There is something else off in the way Lance won’t look back into Keith’s eyes. Before he has to ask with a fierce tone he isn’t sure he can pull off at the moment, Lance suddenly looks down at him with a concerning amount of fear and sympathy he rarely ever shows in front of Keith. A moment later it sadly makes sense.

“Though it might have been because you are actually part Galra. Otherwise the blade wouldn’t have been activated to turn into this sword-thingy.”

The first thought that comes to his mind is Allura.  
Not what Shiro thinks about it, not the way Lance is all weird about telling him and scared of his reaction, not the way his heart painfully clenches at the revelation he feared and expected for some months now.

“She hates me, doesn’t she?”

Thankfully Lance for once doesn’t sugarcoat his words.  
“She will come around.”

And while Keith fully believes his words, he silently wonders if he himself ever will, when he will be reminded of what the Galra have done every time he looks into their princess’ eyes full of pain and rage about having lost everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me so, so long. I'm sorry. Had the idea in my head from the beginning on, but forming it out the way I wanted it to go was harder than I thought. Now I'm quite satisfied with the result. What do you think?  
> If you have a wish for a prompt, look at the list I put in the Story Summary and contact me any way you want. Tumblr, here, Twitter... I'm everywhere.
> 
> Now some things I wanted to add regarding some stuff happening in the chapter that might be a bit questioning:
> 
>  **Why did Shiro notice way sooner that Lance wasn't the real one, when Keith is actually in a relationship with him?**  
>  Mostly I blame Keith's condition on it. You saw in the episode how done this poor boy is, he's literally been their personal punching bag and then some. And when his lover shows up all he wants to do is curl up in his embrace and endure the pain like he always does.  
> Also Shiro had a huge advantage with being able to see the resistance. None of them were throwing a fit, of course something has to be amiss here. And that guy has been captured for a year, if someone questions everything it's him.
> 
>  **Why did Keith recognize Shiro as the real one so much sooner than Lance?**  
>  To be honest 80% are pure hope like I wrote in the chapter. He is bleeding out on the floor, all energy reserves are gone and he is close to passing out. He fucking needs it to be the real Shiro.  
> Also they have this beautiful brotherly connection in my mind (and in the show anyway, just LOOK at it! <3). They have known each other for quite some time before the events of the show happened, so they not only know each other longer but also better. Klance is a beautiful and deep thing, but oh so fresh. They are still trying to figure it all out, so yes, Keith felt that adorable brotherly connection and just knew beside hoping his cute butt off.
> 
>  **The fight at the end was a bit over the top thinking about the resistance here.**  
>  Naah, it really wasn't. In the original episode they were clearly willing to go all out for just the blade, when Shiro began to defend Keith and fight them. Despite all the talks in the beginning about an alliance. I only took it a tiny bit further and let Shiro snap a bit (because bros, you know it <3).
> 
>  **hijo de puta**  
>  I desperately wanted to show how fricking afraid Lance was with putting in some Spanish vibes. Lance is canon Cuban I read somewhere, so Spanish it is. Sadly I don't speak it at all, so google had to do it. If there is something wrong with the term or so, just let me know. I'll fix it asap.  
> Basically it means 'son of a bitch'.


End file.
